


Swing

by Wayward_and_Worn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Sex, F/M, Fingering, Sex, Table Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 23:02:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17313512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wayward_and_Worn/pseuds/Wayward_and_Worn
Summary: After a hunt goes bad, Y/N is having a hard time letting go.  Angry and frustrated, she's been taking it out on anyone who got in the way.  When you live with just the Winchesters, things come to a head quickly.  Dean helps her blow off some steam.





	Swing

                 “Hey, hey sweetheart, what’s got you all pissed?”  Dean asked amicably as Y/N pushed past him to snatch his whiskey bottle from the war table.

                “Mind your own—“

                “Business?”  Dean challenged, his tone shifting immediately as he dropped his feet from the table surface. “Nah, you’re all charged up, tearing around this place the last few days, it IS my business.”  He grabbed her wrist as she was about to grab at the bottle again.  She turned and swung at him with her other arm that he easily ducked and stood, twisted her arm up behind her back, forcing her into the wall. His other arm braced across her shoulders. 

                “Dean!” she cried, “Get your fucking hands off me!”

                “Not,” his lips were close, his breath hot against her ear, “Until,” he pressed his body against her back, muffling her struggle further, “you calm the fuck down.”

                She roared in frustration.  Struggling even though she knew she’d never get out of this hold.  She tried another tactic.  “Sam!” 

                “He gave up on your shit hours ago.  He’s not even here.”  Dean growled as she fought.  “We all lose Y/N!  You’re not the only one that came home bloody!”

                She grunted, trying once more to break free.  He stepped backwards as she attempted to push off the wall.  The surprise momentum put her in his arms where he spun her and slammed her back into the wall.  This time he pinned her arms above her head.  Easily holding her wrists in one hand. 

                “Seems you’re about as reasonable as I am.”  He held her, his eyes widening as they met hers.  “Instead of taking it out on your liver,” his voice dropped as he gripped her hip with his other hand, “Why don’t you take it out on me?”

                “I tried.”  She growled, her eyes full of anger, frustration, and fire, “You ducked.”  She wiggled in his grasp.    

                “I got nothing against being angry.  You know I don’t, Y/N.   Do you just wanna punch something?  We can go down and spar if you really want.  Or,” he pressed against her harder, stilling her movements, “do you want to fuck something until the pleasure just drowns everything else out?”  He paused, letting the words sink in.  “Me?  I’m a bigger fan of a good anger-fucking.”  He rutted his hips against hers and even in her present rage she could feel him.  Hard and ready.  She’d be lying if she were to claim she didn’t want Dean Winchester between her thighs in the worst way.  She pushed back against him, unable to stop her eyes from closing in the pleasure found there.  But the growl that escaped him set her on fire.  “It will be good for us both.”

                She lurched forward, lips crashing into his.  He dropped her wrists and her arms fell around his shoulders.  She kissed him, hard, her fingers curling into his hair.

                “Atta girl,” he groaned before she covered his mouth again.  Her hands found the front of his flannel, pushing it back over his shoulders and down his arms, barely releasing it before she was clawing at his shirt to tug over his head.  They parted only for a moment before his hungry mouth was back to hers.  He began working at her belt and jeans as she pulled off her own flannel and top.  He turned them, then walked her backwards, stepping on the hem of her jeans so she would step out as she moved.  When she bumped the table with the back of her thighs, he grabbed her waist and pushed so that she slid onto the surface.  Foreheads pressed together, panting, they both watched as she ripped his belt from its loops and popped the button of his jeans, thrusting her hand inside, seeking his cock while the other hand pushed them down over his ass to fall at his ankles. 

                They watched as her hand stroked him, her thumb moving up to rub over the head, catching the drop of arousal to spread over the sensitive flesh.  His eyes closed and his breath softly escaped his lungs, pushing himself into her palm.  One hand trailed up her body to wrap gently around her throat, he met no resistance, and she tilted her head back with a soft moan.  His other hand trailed down her body, slipping, unrestricted, through her folds.  His cock jerked in her hand as he found her wet and ready.  “You’re going to feel so good.”  He said thickly, slipping a thick finger inside. 

                Her body jerked and a grunt escaped her throat as Dean finger-fucked her.

                “Yeah,” he murmured, watching his fingers slip in and out of her heat, “just like that.”  He used his thumb to massage her swollen clit.  She hissed and clenched her fist in his hair, the pain evolving to pleasure as it registered in Dean’s heated body. 

                “Dean,” she whispered, moving her hips in time with his movements.  A surge of wetness flowed from her opening into his palm and he licked his lips.  He tipped his head up, covering her mouth with his own at the same time pushing another finger inside her.  Both of her hands moved down to the table top, lifting herself off the surface to rock harder into his invading digits. 

                The war table creaked beneath her and she squeaked into his mouth.  “You wanna cum?”  Dean panted in her ear. 

                “Yes.”  She answered, twisting her hips as she pushed. 

                Suddenly, she was empty as Dean withdrew his fingers.  She cried out in frustration, digging her nails into his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around her waist, sliding her against his own, trapping his erection between them.  “Not yet.”  He grunted as he reached around her back, unclasping her bra and sliding it down her arms to be discarded on the floor.  He immediately covered her breasts with his hands, kneading and tweaking the sensitive nubs.  She leaned back giving him full access and moaned his name.  She felt his cock tense against her as he leaned down, taking a stiff peak into his mouth. She moaned his name again. 

                Dean stepped back from the table and guided them towards the floor.  He grimaced as the cold floor met his naked back as he settled Y/N over him. 

                She straddled him, bracing her hands on his chest.  The constellations of freckles catching her attention for a moment.  She leaned in and kissed his tattoo, tracing the design with her tongue. 

                She was rewarded with a moan and his fingertips digging into her thighs.  As she rose, their eyes met again.  Pure lust to pure lust, he blinked slowly.  “Use me.”  Dean commanded. 

                She took a deep breath and leaned down to kiss his perfect lips.  The movement freeing his cock and she moved her hips until the tip was notched at her needy entrance.  As she rocked backwards, she slowly impaled herself.   

                His mouth opened more in a gasp as she enveloped him.  He tipped his head back against the concrete, closing his eyes as his cock throbbed within her.  Grabbing his hands, she guided them to her breasts.  “Use me,” he repeated, squeezing firmly. 

                She began to ride.  His hands roaming over any flesh he could reach while she got lost in the feel of his body.  It wasn’t long before she was moaning loudly; her cries getting louder and louder as she shed the poison that had been clouding her since they came back.  Dean’s encouragement floated from his lips through her haze, pushing her higher.

                “That’s it.  Ride.  Fucking ride me,” Dean panted, finally planting his hands on her hips to steady her as she leaned back, bracing her hands on his tensed thighs.  “Yeah, unh, harder.  Harder!”  He barked. 

                “Fuck.”  The first real word bursting out of her mouth as the burn of orgasm appeared.  She moved faster, starting to bounce on his cock as she chased the euphoria.  Sweat matted her hair, and there were spots in her vision from staring up at the lights of the war room.  “I-Dean…” she began. 

                Dean slid one hand to her cunt and pressed gently on her clit, letting her movements stimulate her for him.  She exploded around him with a sharp cry as she went rigid, her thighs trembling as she came. 

                “So beautiful when you cum.”  Dean praised as she slowly rocked forward almost falling across his chest as all strength drained from her body.  Her mouth was open, gasping for breath against his neck.  She shivered as he ran his hands over her back.  “We’re not done yet.”  He said softly.

                She raised her head a little, “We’re—”

                CRACK!

                She yelped and jumped as Dean’s hand landed in a solid smack of her ass.  Wide-eyed, she stared into his fiery greens.  “I’m not done yet.”  For emphasis, he tensed his cock, the sensation of it inside her making her shiver again. 

                She smiled wickedly and licked at his lips.  “We haven’t completely drowned the bad feelings out?”  She asked.   

                His eyes darkened.  “Hands and knees.”

                He half expected her to argue, instead, she reached over, grabbing his flannel, and rolling onto it, presenting herself on all fours.  “Use me.”  She commanded.

                He was behind her, hands roaming over the flesh of her bottom.  “So perfect.” He said absently as he guided his cock back into her.  They moaned together.    

                “Dean…” she cried as he started to pound fiercely into her.  He barely heard her as he held her tightly in his hands, snapping his hips as hard and fast as he could.  He felt her tense, and when she dropped from holding herself up on her elbows, to pressing her chest to the floor, the angle of her body shifted and Dean was hitting her deeper than before.  He roared with pleasure as his body exploded.      

                When he came, she came again with him.  Collapsing onto the discarded clothes in exhausted bliss. 

                That’s where Sam found them, naked and sleeping in the middle of the war room floor, Dean’s pants still around his ankles.  At first, he thought they were dead.  Then he nudged the back of Dean’s head with the toe of his boot.  “Dude!”

                “What, WHAT?!”  Dean flailed a moment, then rolled over, blinking up at his very tall brother. 

                “There are three HUNDRED rooms in this place.  You couldn’t pick ONE with a door?”

                “Your room was locked.”  Y/N murmured from beneath Dean’s arm. 

                “I hate you both.”  Sam groused and stomped off. 

                They laughed sleepily, and she settled back into Dean’s warm embrace.  “I guess we could go find a bed.”  She said, the smile easy to detect in her voice.

                “Do you feel better now?”  Dean asked softly, kissing her shoulder.

                She nodded.  “You were right.”  She sighed. 

                “Don’t you ever forget it.”  Dean grinned as he moved slowly to his feet, “Come on gorgeous, come to bed with me.”  Without waiting for an answer, he picked Y/N up bridal style, and carried her to his room. 


End file.
